Heading West by Keith Pearson

Outside a town called Danville the two lane intersected the railline and as they approached a red light began to blink and a bell clanged and the single bar guard fell across the road and he let the truck roll to a stop. He shut off the engine to let it cool and put down his window and watched the train approach from the west. It stretched out as far as he could see moving slowly as though from out of the mountains themselves. He heard the bark and yelp of a dog and then the train was roaring by them moving much faster than it had appeared, empty coal cars identical except for the occasional unintelligible graffiti scrawled across the sides. She had also rolled down her window and watched the train move east across the prairie as he watched it approach from the west. Ten minutes later the last of the empty coal cars and a single caboose passed them and the echo of the train rolled slowly away from where they sat. He checked the rearview. There was no one there. All he saw was the two lane out straight and waving slightly in the haze behind them.The clanging of the caution bell ceased and the gate creaked upward.

    Did you hear a dog he asked. The silence was different inside the truck with the windows down and the bell finished and without the hum of the air conditioner or the low murmur of the radio. 

    I did she said. 

    He looked at her. I didn't see a dog anywhere. 

    I thought I imagined it she said. Like I was half asleep or something. 

    I heard it too. I guess weren't sleeping. 

    She stretched a little on the seat. You don't suppose do you.

    I don't see it he said. I'm not sure we would but I don't now. He started the truck and rolled up his window as the AC kicked on. Want me to look as we go across he asked. He knew she would not look.

    No please don't I don't want to know. Could we have been imagining the same thing? That would be too weird. 

    It must have been the train he said. Some sound from the wheels or the tracks or maybe the brakes releasing. He dropped the gear lever and they bumped across the tracks and he kept his eyes straight ahead on the gray asphalt and did not look along the tracks.

    You didn't look did you she asked.

    Nope he said. 

    Because I don't want to know she said. She slouched on the seat and brought her knees up and hugged them as though she was cold. 

    Want me to turn down the air he asked. 

    No I'm fine she said. She looked at him. We'll never know will we.

    The town is up ahead. You want to stop and stretch? Get a snack?

    No she said. Let's keep going. 

    So they drove past the Danville exit and the two lane stretched out straight ahead into the vague shape of the distant mountains and in spite of himself he checked along the side of the highway every so often hoping to see a good sized dog loping free and determined in that afternoon prairie sun. 

Keith Pearson

I live in southern New Hampshire and works with special ed students at a local high school.